


Drabble: Med Bay

by PumpkinSpite



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, crack ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 22:31:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8915524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinSpite/pseuds/PumpkinSpite
Summary: A drabble for my friend Nix about our crack OTP! We call it "Smokebomb" :D





	

“Will you hold still for just one second now?“  
“I AM holdin' still, Doc!”  
“No, you are not!”

Genji looked up, his head lifting an inch up from the pillow, as he heard yelling from behind the curtains, that separated him from Doctor Ziegler's other patient.  
This Junker must be the only other member of Overwatch, who has became somewhat of a regular in the medical bay. Not too shocking, considering he was a demolition man. At least that's how the doctor put it in words. Others - and by that he meant people like Morrison or McCree or his brother – would call him a mad man, a crazy person that regular sets his surroundings and himself on fire. Which is probably the reason why he was here. The familiar smell of ammonia told him so.

“Listen, you stay here and let the salve work.” the doctor commented snippy before stepping through the curtains and closing them again. Genji appreciated their existence. The curtains veiled him every time he was set onto the machinery the doctor used to read his heart rating or clean the suit from wastes or record the bodily functions for research. Even thought his body was the only thing keeping him alive, he knew his appearance might gross people out. Or at least make them uncomfortable. The curtains made him feel safe.  
Doctor Ziegler groaned quietly, rubbing the bridge of her nose, as if her glasses felt uncomfortable. “Sometimes, this man irritates me.” she whispered. She didn't want the Junker to listen in on them.  
Genji gave her a gentle smile. “He is a very childish person by nature.” he muttered, metal fingers brushing over the mattress as he slowly sat up.  
“Careless might be the more fitting word.” Ziegler replied and took notes as she studied the ratings on a little screen attached to his bed. “He is a mess, Genji. I'm sorry if my argument with him bothered you.”  
Genji shook his hand. “Don't say it. I've seen you more angry than that before.”  
The physician chuckled quietly and walked around the bed, petting the man's arm. “Your ratings are good so far. Ten more minutes and you should be good to go for the rest of the month.”  
“Thank you, Angela.”  
“Ach. It's my job.” she said, smiling weakly. “Oh, that reminds me. I have to get a new oxygen tank for your breathing apparatus. I'll go see if Winston has one is stock.”  
“Well, I can't exactly run away, can I?” the man chuckled, lifting his arms a little. Tubes and cables were still attached to his wrists, head and chest.   
Another endeared giggle from Ziegler. “Witzbold...I'll be right back.” she returned and walked out of the safe circle of the curtains.

Genji sighed, slowly sinking back into the pillow. He turned his head to the side, watching his helmet rest on the little table next to him. Another screen displaying his heart beat and a confusing mess of numbers was standing next to it.  
He ran his left hand through the few strands of black hair he had left on his head. He could feel the liquids rushing through his body, like an engine being fueled with gasoline. He needed some time to get adjusted to...all of this, pretty much. Being dependent on a mechanical body can tuck on your nerves and on your self-worth. However, he was sure to have found peace with himself. No less thanks to his master and Doctor Ziegler.  
Still, this odd tingling going down his chest through his lap to his prosthetic legs will probably never stop being weird.

“Hey!”  
Genji turned his head to the other side. The other patient's voice cut through the curtains. He sighed. In the end the curtains only blocked the sight, not the sound.  
“Hello Junkrat.” he replied loud enough for the other to hear him. Hopefully. Sometimes he felt like the man did need a hearing aid.  
A groan came as a reply. “Oh, it's you again.”  
Rude. He was the one starting the conversation.  
“Yes, it's me. Like every second Wednesday a month.”  
“Ain't payin' attention to ya dates with the Doc.”  
“They are not dates, they are check-ups.” Genji returned, his lips curling up to a grin. He'll never get rid of his reputation as a playboy, will he?  
“Wouldn't blame ya, mate. She is pretty hot fo' her age.”  
“I didn't know you were into women.”  
“Oi, listen. I can tell if a steak looks good or if a pair o' shoes look good, therefore I can still tell, if a woman is attractive or not. Doesn't mean I wanna bone her.”  
“Point taken.” Genji chuckled.  
Somehow, every time they end up chit-chatting, they always end up with either one of three topics: A shared enthusiasm for food, “I'm not an omnic, I'm a cyborg, there's a difference.” or anything related to sex. Sometimes even a combination of those three.  
It's weird that they usually don't converse as much on duty. But then again they are usually in different fractions of the group or on different missions. Besides, Genji preferred to keep a distance from Junkrat's arsenal of explosives. His trigger finger can be very itchy.

“Oi, you mind if I come over?”

Genji jolted up in his bed, sitting up straight, as if his master just lectured his posture.  
“No.” was his only answer.  
“Why not?” asked the Australian's voice.  
“I...I am not in a favorable condition to be seen in right now.” he replied, looking at his lap. The tubes attached to his wrists pumped what was left of his blood back into what was left of his human body. No, he really wasn't a sight for sore eyes right now. He would prefer to stay veiled.

He hear the fabric of the curtain swish and his gaze darted to his left.  
Junkrat was standing there, his left hand covered in bandages which were stained yellow from iodine. Plasters covered parts of his pointy face, which looked cleaner than Genji had ever seen it before. The doctor must have cleaned it against the Junker's will to save the cuts from infections.  
His bug eyes were even bigger than they already were, now that they were staring at the cyborg, which made said one feel even more awkward.  
He finally turned his head away, avoiding the Junker's looks as good as he could, even raising his hand to create a barrier between them.  
“I told you I don't want to be seen like this.” he muttered, voice low and raspy.  
He tried his best to not sound too angered. He knew the Junker wasn't the brightest candle on the chandelier. His curiosity probably got the better of him. Still, this was incredibly rude.  
The Junker's peg-leg made a silent, metallic tap noise and even with his eyes turned away he could sense Junkrat lean closer.   
Genji felt his heart beat up to his throat. This was incredibly uncomfortable. He felt like an animal being stared at in a zoo.

Suddenly there was a quiet noise.  
A tender whisper. A husky voice. A single word.  
What did he say?  
Genji's hand slowly sank back onto the sheets and his head dared to move back as well, meeting the Junker's glance.  
He was in awe it seemed. His eyes were oddly focused and still instead of jittering all over the place, his mouth a little open which showed off his uneven teeth.  
“What did you say?” the cyborg forced himself to ask. Now his curiosity would probably get the better of him.  
Junkrat blinked a few times, closing his lips, while his metal hand still clung onto the curtains. He needed a moment.

“I said ya look pretty.”

“You can't be serious.” Genji replied, before he could properly process the meaning of this statement.  
Pretty? Why would he call him pretty? He was well aware of Junkrat's rather unique taste. But how could he call him pretty? He was far from being handsome. His body was a shadow of his former self, a daily reminder that he was not wanted by the people he once thought loved him.  
How could he dare to say that? How could he dare to say he was pretty?  
“Course I am. Wouldn't say it otherwise.” Junkrat replied, obviously bitter that Genji didn't take what was supposed to be a compliment.  
“Why would you think that?” the other replied and slowly went back to lying down again, closing his eyes. Maybe if he didn't see the Junker, he would stop looking at him as well.  
“Cause ya are. What, ya think 'cause ya got a few cuts in ya face ya look like an abomination?”  
Genji's eye opened wide. He had trouble to control his expression. “I am nothing but the sad remains of what sued to be a human being. The suit is all what keeps me alive and moving. I am well aware of how I look and I don't want flattery out of pity.”  
“Ya sayin' this ta the guy with the omnic arm and the peg-leg.”

Genji closed his eyes again.  
Ignore it, just ignore it. Don't let it get to you.  
As much as you yearn after being complimented and idolized like you used to be in your youth.  
He can't be serious. This must be a joke.  
Right?

“Thank you, Jamison.”  
“Ya welcome, tin can.”


End file.
